


I Need You Here

by malneiro



Series: SakuAtsu Fluff Week 2021 [8]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, M/M, Married Life, New Family, Pro Volleyball Player Miya Atsumu, Pro Volleyball Player Sakusa Kiyoomi, Quarantine, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 22:08:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29616135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/malneiro/pseuds/malneiro
Summary: It’s the thick of the pandemic, and of course, Atsumu and Sakusa are quarantined together. But on top of the stress of the pandemic, they also have their new baby daughter to take care of.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Series: SakuAtsu Fluff Week 2021 [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2162511
Comments: 2
Kudos: 89
Collections: SakuAtsu Fluff Week 2021





	I Need You Here

Atsumu kicks the box, sending it across the living room. It hits the coffee table and spills out several pieces of packaging and parts that hadn’t been taken out of the box. Around him, there was already a nest of packaging and pieces of an unassembled assembled bouncy chair. “This thing is impossible! It said minor assembly.” With a glare, he grudgingly stalks across the living room and yanks it back to the center of the circle he’s made, and plops back down on the rug. 

“I don’t see why we even need this thing,” Kiyoomi calls from the kitchen. He’s been soothing their newborn baby since at least Atsumu has started trying to tackle the bouncy chair, which he’d been delaying on doing for days. Why not do it now, when the sun wasn’t out? Time didn’t matter anymore. “It’s just a more expensive chair.”

This has been their life for.... Well, he can’t remember what day it is exactly, and it’s not like it matters anyway. At least they have their daughter to keep them busy, otherwise he’d have gone stir crazy by now. Their day revolves around her. Wake up when she does, attend to her the whole day. It’s kind of nice, despite the reason why they’re inside all day. If they were expected to go to work right now, they wouldn’t have this time to spend with her. 

It’s nice. Every time he sees her, he can feel his heart swell, even more so when he sees his husband holding their daughter. It’s an odd sort of dissonance from the press of stress that pandemic presses on them everyday.

“Ya can’t just use that harness 24/7,” Atsumu answers back, digging through the box for the mystery (read: nonexistent) piece that would solve the whole puzzle. “And you’re not propping our baby up on the couch while we do things, I don’t care how many pillows ya use. It ain’t safe.”

There’s a pause in the kitchen as Kiyoomi mulls that over. He decides to ignore it. “It’s not a harness, it’s a carrier. We’re not skydiving.”

“Whatever. And you’re the one who picked it out, Omi, so don’t come crying to me,” Atsumu reminds him teasingly. 

“Mm, yeah whatever.” 

Atsumu smiles smugly to himself. The smile immediately falls off his face when he looks back at the box. He gives up and dumps the box out onto the rug. A few smaller pieces come out, but mostly packaging. In another words, completely unhelpful. 

He groans and grabs the biggest piece, wondering why on earth something made for babies was so complicated to assemble. After staring at it and trying to figure it out, he gives up and just starts putting pieces together, his patience starting to wear out.

Behind him, he hears Kiyoomi coming into the room. “What the hell are you doing?”

“What does it look like? I’m putting the bouncy chair together,” Atsumu mutters irritably, grabbing another piece. 

He grabs the instructions from the floor behind Atsumu, and there’s a long pause as he compares them to what Atsumu’s done. “That’s not what the instructions say.”

Atsumu groans and drops the pieces he’s holding, then turns around to glare at him. “Yeah well, I’m trying my best, all right! Jeez.” He turns around and starts trying to assemble the pieces again, more just jamming them together out of frustration than making a real effort to put it together. He groans. “This is bullshit. Normally, I’d just call ‘Samu would just come over this’d be done, like that time with the couch, but nooooo, quarantine. Ugh. I hate this so fucking much.”

“Don’t swear in front of her. And he’d just look at the instructions. That’s what he did with the couch.”

That makes Atsumu more frustrated, because he knows that it’s true, and Kiyoomi is right, but that wasn’t the point. He huffs and drops the amalgamation of pieces. It falls apart immediately. “I hate this. Fuck the chair.”

Kiyoomi sighs. “Look, why don’t you just take a break? It’s not like something bad will happen if you don’t get that thing assembled right this second. It’s been sitting there for days. And besides, it’s late. Let’s just go to sleep.”

Atsumu rolls his eyes. “For what? ‘S not like we’ve got anything to get up for. Just some more nothing,” he mutters.

“That’s not the point. It’s important to keep up a normal routine. It helps,” Kiyoomi says, much too calmly for Atsumu’s taste. 

“Screw that.There is no point.” Atsumu kicks the box in frustration. “I hate this.”

“It’s for our own good.” Atsumu can practically hear his pout. Easy for him to say, he’d taken to quarantine like a duck to water. He knew it was for their own good, but that wasn’t the point. “And besides, it’s kind of a good thing. We get time to settle in with the baby.” 

“I know, I know,” Atsumu mutters. “I still hate it.” He grabs the pieces of the bouncy chair and starts looking for new ways to jam the pieces together. 

“For the love of—” Behind him, Kiyoomi sighs again. “Atsumu....” He pads around in front of Atsumu, his steps muffled on the carpet. He kicks the box out of the way and clears a space for him to sit down with a socked foot. Atsumu ignores him, even when he does sit down in front of him, and keeps glaring at the pieces, trying to interrogate them for their answers, or punish them, he isn’t sure which. They should make sense, why don’t they make sense? It’s just a baby chair. “Atsumu stop.” He reaches out and presses Atsumu’s hands down. 

Atsumu looks up, glaring, but loses steam as soon as he does. Kiyoomi is frowning slightly, in that way that he does when he’s worried about him. There’s one hand on Atsumu’s and the other one is cradling their daughter’s head as she sleeps on his husband’s chest, no sign that she’d been at all aware of the commotion from before, just peaceful sleep. 

His eyes start to prickle, which surprises him. He never usually cries this easily, which just goes to show the amount of emotion that’s been building up lately. She looks so precious when she’s asleep. Kiyoomi raises an eyebrow at him, concerned. “What’s the problem? Are you okay?”

Atsumu shakes his head, taking Kiyoomi’s hand. Out of habit, Kiyoomi runs circles on Atsumu’s hand with his thumb without breaking eye contact, which just makes it so much harder to not cry. “Nothing, nothing. Just… when did she get to sleep?”

“What? Oh, right.” Kiyoomi shifts to crosslegged on the carpet, not taking his hands away. “A bit ago. Not that long ago. I was pacing around, trying to get her to go to sleep, and eventually, it worked. She was really tired, poor thing.” 

Atsumu lets go of Kiyoomi’s hand to crawl over and put his arm around his shoulders, to get a better look at their daughter. She’s sleeping away on Kiyoomi’s chest, breathing softly, one little fist grabbing the neck of his shirt, and Kiyoomi is looking down at her so adoringly, softly cradling her head. His heart melts. He pulls both of them into a gentle hug, making sure not to wake the baby up. Kiyoomi hums contentedly and lays his head on Atsumu’s shoulder, they stay like that for a long moment, silent and together, then he murmurs, “Done torturing the chair?”

“Hm. Maybe.” Kiyoomi groans into Atsumu’s shoulder. Atsumu’s laughs and kisses his husband in his nest of curls then his daughter on the top of her head. She stirs in her sleep, but doesn’t wake up. “I love you. Both of you. So much.” He kisses them again, and then just holds them. It’s too easy sometimes to forget the things that made it worth it. 

Kiyoomi picks his head up and tugs on Atsumu’s shirt. “Come to bed. Let’s just sleep for a bit. Yeah, we don’t have anything to get up for, but the baby’s asleep, so we might as well sleep now, while we can. Right?” He nuzzles Atsumu’s neck.

“Ah, you drive a hard bargain,” he says with a smile. “All right. Let’s go.” He gets up first, then Kiyoomi does, though more carefully, watching their daughter the whole time. They both stand still for a second, then Kiyoomi nods and they make their way to the bedroom. 

Atsumu lifts the baby out of the chest carrier, and for a second, he just holds her, and he can’t help but smile stupidly wide. It’s their daughter, his and his husband’s daughter. She’s a warm little bundle, hands curled into tiny little fists against her chest in her sleep. He bops her nose gently, then carefully lowers her into the crib. 

She sniffs in her sleep, which makes both of them tense up as they peer over the side of the crib. But she stretches and falls still again. They breathe a sigh of relief. Atsumu flops down onto the bed, now thankful more than ever that Kiyoomi likes his beds to be soft. He presses his face happily into his pillow. Next to him, the bed sinks down as Kiyoomi lies down behind him. He sighs happily and presses back into Kiyoomi’s chest, his way of asking to be held. Kiyoomi snorts, but slides a hand around his waist and pulls him tightly against his chest. 

It’s a perfect moment, the warm weight around him, the presence of his husband at his back, the warmth, the baby peacefully sleeping a few metres away. Kiyoomi hums a contented noise and presses a kiss to Atsumu’s neck, whispering, “I love you.”  
“I love you too. Now shush, I’m sleeping,” he murmurs back. Kiyoomi snorts, then settles into the pillows, pulling the sheets up around them. They drift off in each other’s arms as rain starts to fall on the windows of their room, the curtains pulled tight.

**Author's Note:**

> I just,,,,, tiny little baby and domestic sakuatsu husbands makes everything better imo, hell yeah.


End file.
